RHUBARB

The 'To Do' List Shrinketh

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Sat, 18 May 2013 07:54:00 GMT

The 'To Do' list shrinketh and passeth away
The tasks fulfilled in many ways
Lest too much efficiency mar the world
(with apologies to Alfred Lord Tennyson)

Two days ago I wrote the list of things that needed to be done, some of them on the order of minutiae and some of them important enough to be written in capital letters.

For the last couple of days I've been steadily working my way through them, crossing them off triumphantly as each is accomplished.

The remaining item is to write my presentation on the Suez Canal, pulling together notes already taken and reading the last of the books on the subject that I've checked out from the library.

I find that I enjoy the Learning in Retirement classes, but not enough to continue. I don't like the feeling of weeks going by with a deadline hanging over my head, especially when it's about a topic for which I feel little or no passion. I've decided to enroll in a class only when it truly grabs my interest, and then give my presentation early on, so that I can sit back and enjoy the subsequent sessions.

Live and learn.

My calendar says that today is Armed Forces Day. I salute you, all who have served our country, both living and dead. I hope that our country does more than give lip service to our servicemen and women, and fixes the VA procedures for benefit assignmment. Waiting years for benefits? They deserve better.

Lovely weather. Enjoy your day, my friends.

It's Thursday Already!

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Thu, 16 May 2013 08:18:00 GMT

Off to visit hubster in VA.
Leaving right now to inch along the freeway (music needed).

Lunch in the car (can of beans and corn quick lunch) at some point.

Then take Fran to the eye doctor.

See ya on the flip side! Have a great day, my friends.

Reflection Day

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Wed, 15 May 2013 07:40:00 GMT

Today feels sort of retrograde, to be a day for reflection and regrouping. I may do a couple of errands (or not), feed the hummingbirds (every other day!), and for the rest of the day sit with my coffee and breakfast (cheese and raw unsalted nuts) and commune with the restorative energy of the universe.

There are lots of things clamoring for my attention. As I'm writing this entry describing my day of reflection, the mental retrieval systems are tossing up a whole list of "To Do" items.

The only way I know to satisfy and quiet those nagging ideas is to put them on the little pocket calendar that sits propped open next to my computer. I consult with it regularly, not only for appointments, but for items to be bought (Tylenol) but also errands to be run (dry cleaning) not to mention phone calls to be made (request tax documents). I know I won't forget them.

The irritating and distracting voice of "ought to" is thus mollified, and I can empty my mind and quiet my spirit.

With any luck, the neighbor won't start raging at the top of his voice; the other neighbor will not have the gardeners mowing and edging; it will remain quiet enough to hear the "clicks" of the hummingbirds as they visit the feeder.

It's a lovely day in the neighborhood.

Lost Track of the Timeline

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Mon, 13 May 2013 22:08:00 GMT

I can remember the sequence of events but I'm not sure about the exact timeline. It's been a day with plenty of drama, and I don't mean the entertaining kind (unless you enjoy schadenfreude).

Husband was in the ER, then was admitted to the hospital 4th floor. From there he was going to have tooth pulled by VA dentist (don't know if that ever happened) and subsequently returned, not to the hospital room, but back to the long term Living Center from whence he started.

I took a deep breath and thought that the worst was over. A good course of antibiotics and he'd be back on track. Wrong. His fever spiked, he was disoriented and becoming overwhelmed with whatever the infection is.

So he went back to the ER and I just got word that he is being re-admitted (or is it re-re-admitted) to the hospital.

I'm too exhausted and hot (it was 102 today and still in the 90's) to go visit tonight -- and anyway I think visiting hours are over.

I'll go in the morning. At least it will be cooler where the VA is than at my house. I hope.

They don't know what's wrong with him, except that it's an infection (duh). I will find out tomorrow just what they plan on doing--culture? change antibiotic? intravenous meds?

He loves drama and being the center of medical attention, but I think this may be over the top, even for him. I'm trying to keep a positive outlook; I'll be happier when the doctors can come up with a diagnosis/prognosis a little more specific than "infection".

Life is good, but it does have its bumpy moments, doesn't it?

Mother's Day Over For Another Year

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Mon, 13 May 2013 08:45:00 GMT

I'm not happy about Mother's Day, the forced sentimentality, and the fact that everyone forgets that it was originally created as an anti-war peace protest, that mothers might never again have to send their children out to be killed.

Another theme is that a person who is a mother is somehow a superior being, and one who is inherently more important than someone who is not.

The day makes those of us with dead mothers, damaged or missing children, or with no children at all, filled with deep grief, a sense of loss, being relegated to a lesser class of human being.

Sure, the service yesterday tossed a bone to "all those who mother, who nurture, no matter their position," but it was clearly meant to be politically and emotionally correct. Motherhood, enshrined, was the focus of worship.

And the constant exhortations on tv, in the mall, in the stores, online, about buy, buy, buy for Mother to show you love her. Money is how we show love, and the requisite dinner out when an exhausted mother might really crave some private, quiet down time instead.

So...you can guess how I feel about Valentine's Day.

Regulation

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Sun, 12 May 2013 08:43:00 GMT

My car has to be inspected and registered. I, as a driver, was required to have training, to take a written test and a driving road test to demonstrate my capabilities in handling the operation of the vehicle. I have to be licensed, renew it, and carry it with me every time I drive my car.

I am held liable, responsible, for what I do with my vehicle, especially if my negligence results in property damage or death of other human beings. I can have my right to own and operate a vehicle terminated if I am negligent to the point where I am considered a danger to myself or others.

There are approximately 30,000 automobile fatalities in the U.S. every year.

And approximately the same number of gun related fatalities.

So explain to me why the rules for owning/using a gun should be far less (or non-existent) than those governing a car. Oh...cars hadn't been invented in the 18th century, weren't referenced in the Constitution, so that makes it all different.

Why should gun regulation be different from car/driver licensing?

A gun is designed to kill people (not just transport them); shouldn't we hold gun owners to an even higher standard than drivers?

Morning Walk

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Sun, 12 May 2013 06:45:00 GMT

My morning walk was lovely. I woke up about 5:15 and was ready out the door at 5:36 (not that I'm timing my walk or anything like that). It was beautiful and cool; the birds were in full song, greeting the day with joy and brilliance.

Though the air was cool and the sun not yet above the horizon, every time I passed a cinder block wall I could feel the warmth radiating from it, carrying yesterday's heat. Then there'd be a cool stretch of lawn and trees, then another spot of warm radiance.

I had forgotten, maybe, how easy and joyous it is to connect to the world of trees and grass and squirrels and birds when the day is fresh and new. Now that summer's here I'll be doing it every day.

Sue's comment reminded me of the poem that goes something like this:

Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.
From what I know of desire,
I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate
To say that ice is also great
And would suffice.

That is from memory. Robert Frost? I'll have to check later when I'm ready to engage the world of correctness and precision. Right now I'm enjoying the world of connectness and vision.

Hope your day is bright and beautiful.

More Bad News

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Sat, 11 May 2013 15:35:00 GMT

My husband was just now admitted to the ER for possible renal failure. Thank goodness he was a patient at the VA and they caught it right away when he was catheterized today. If he had been here at home and I was the one doing the cathing, I would not have known that the symptoms meant anything important.

There. I feel better now that I have put it "out there".

Thanks for your support. They say stuff happens in 3s. The third thing was that I fell down today. Was trying to sit on a marble bench, misjudged its placement thanks to bifocals, and sat down on thin air.

The only thing damaged was my dignity.

So it gets better from here on, right?

The Fires of Hades

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Sat, 11 May 2013 14:05:00 GMT

A week ago it was chilly, downright cold, overcast and finally rain. Today (it's only 2 p.m.) so far 98 degrees and climbing. Shortest spring I've ever seen.

A group of friends and I went to the Getty Villa in Malibu this morning. The weather at the beach was in the mid 70's and in the shade, one might even imagine it to be cool. This is a group I haven't gone adventuring with before, and to be honest, while they're nice people and all, probably not again.

However, I wandered off from the group and saw part of the museum on my own, and that was really nice. There is an extraordinary collection of glass and pottery. Imagine such fragile items surviving 4000 years intact.

The setting for the Villa is amazingly beautiful (Malibu on the beach) and it was built from plans of a villa excavated in Herculaneum. Wouldn't it be lovely to have an inner peristyle with garden and fountains (I could live without the statues)?

I first visited the Villa several decades ago and I had a dream that one day I would build a house like that (on a much smaller scale of course). My house now is my last one, and it has a covered patio looking out on grass, flowers and trees. I am quite content.

Whew! I wonder if it will hit 100 today. Welcome to ~~Hades~~ southern California!

Have to Set a Date

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Fri, 10 May 2013 12:12:00 GMT

Visit with cardiologist this morning: surgery sooner rather than later. In spite of the fact that I'm feeling better, the echo shows nearly complete blockage.

So--a stress test at the end of July, then surgery in September or October.

Never have surgery in July, when the newbies are just learning their craft.

But other than that, I have to pick a time for surgery and I don't have any idea. I suppose it doesn't matter about home health care--I can always hire somebody for a week or so, until I can get upstairs and downstairs by myself, and there would be somebody to call 911 for me if I had a problem.

I need to pick a date...and then just gird my loins (or in the case of the hospital attire, ungird them) and do it.

September?

October??

Feel Great, Except...

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Thu, 9 May 2013 07:23:00 GMT

I feel great, except that brisk walking brings on chest pain and I have to slow down, or stop for a few seconds, it passes, and then I resume walking (30 minutes a day except trash day, Friday). When I stop the pain disappears completely almost immediately.

My cardiologist has diagnosed aortic stenosis (did all the tests and stuff)--not surprised; I've had a heart murmur since I was a child. I just read an article that said untreated, life expectancy is less than 3 years.

I find that hard to believe, since in every other way I'm remarkably healthy, and the stenosis symptoms don't seem to be getting any worse ("worse" would be fainting, shortness of breath while sitting still, crushing pain). And I don't like the way the doctor jumped straight from diagnosis to surgery, as if there were no management options. Maybe he doesn't think so, but I do.

I'm almost inclined to think there's something of a scare tactic to get patients to have heart surgery. Why would I get my chest cracked open and the heart sliced into to replace the valve, when I feel fine and am still active? Not to mention exposing myself to MRSA and other bad microbes.

There are indications that non-surgical interventions are on the horizon (valve replacement via venal catheter, mimetic peptide infusions). I'm going to stay as healthy and active as I can and hope they become available soon.

I'm also going to be sensible about not doing heavy exercise or reacting to extraordinary stress (which can be managed).

So far, so good. And I'm grateful for good health, enjoying life. I don't want to live as a sick person, with a dozen diagnoses, each worse than the last.

Food and Clothing

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Wed, 8 May 2013 15:52:00 GMT

In this kind of weather, it's best to dress like an onion, I always say. When I was teaching, it was one of my "life lessons" for my class. I quickly learned that many of my children either had no idea how to dress appropriately for changeable weather--or had only one set of clothes, winter and summer.

For the children who came bundled up as if for an Arctic winter and then sweltered in their sweaters (or conversely wore lightweight tees and jeans in the rain and shivered all day), I held a parenting class to encourage the parents to join me in the effort.

I made a joke of it, showing them how I dressed like an onion myself, and asked for their help in dressing their children appropriately.

For the children who had no other clothes, I went to the Salvation Army, bought children's clothes, washed them, and then had a corner in the coat closet that was "loaner" clothes. Most of them were taken, worn home, and never returned to the loaner pile. Fine with me, since that was the idea--giving clothes without the accompanying embarrassment and humiliation of being different, singled out, poor.

For the children who returned the clothes, I washed them, and said to the child to keep them in his/her desk. "Now that we know they fit you, it would be easier to keep them here," I said.

And for food, well that was a piece of cake, so to speak. I started a Lunch Club with my class. I'd bring my own lunch out to one of the outdoor tables, my tray piled with the two or three extra lunches I'd bought (and my brown bag stuff), and the children joined me, chattering and laughing like magpies. The ones for whom I knew this was their only meal were glad to get the extra nutrition, and for all of us it was like a party.

We talked about the weather, and the kickball game, and stuff you talk about with friends. All the time I was pushing food towards the ones who were hungry. And I set an example for eating in a civilized manner and enjoyed the opportunity to continue to model how you carry on a real conversation (a skill sadly not taught much).

I was a good teacher. I've often wondered what happened to some of those children. One year does not a childhood make.

Dow ends at all-time high above 15,000

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Tue, 7 May 2013 19:31:00 GMT

I would guess that the wealthy are doing just fine, thank you, especially when they don't have to pay taxes on unearned income (income which they didn't have to work for).

And they are able to shield their money from taxes and lawsuits in banks in Cayman Islands and other tax havens.

Hooray for capitalism! The money they didn't have to work for isn't taxed. What a deal!

Were We Like That?

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Tue, 7 May 2013 16:23:00 GMT

This afternoon I drove past one of our mega high schools (are there any other kind?) just at dismissal time.

Hordes of teenagers streamed across the street, and, then like the Red Sea parting, one stream headed west, the other east along a major thoroughfare, small clumps stopping at the donut shop, Jack in the Box, other points of gastronomic interest.

The boys were in loose jeans, tees, hoodies, many with backpacks. The girls were in gauzy, sleeveless, low-cut tops, and skintight pants, leaving very little to the imagination. Shoes were sneakers for the boys and strappies for the girls. It was overcast, with a cold wind, and high humidity.

As the light changed, a microburst happened--sudden, pelting rain, soaking everything in a flash. The boys huddled down into their sweatshirts, pulled the hoods up over their heads. The girls just got wet and wetter.

Not one boy, as I inched through traffic, alongside the stream of hormonal humanity, offered his sweatshirt to a girl, even when clearly they were affectionate couples, arms wrapped around each other, causing burbles in the flow of pedestrians. And I guess the girls didn't ask, lest their newly-budded feminine charms be covered up.

We get a lot more practical as we get older, and, I think, more thoughtful of the other person's situation and possible discomfort. We discover that people like to be asked to help, and to offer assistance.

For the young, chivalry is dead; nothing seems to have replaced it. Or maybe we were like that, too, and I just don't remember it....

Causality

ssmith04@hotmail.com (rhubarb) — Mon, 6 May 2013 07:39:00 GMT

Southern California is experiencing out of the normal rain last night and this morning. During the 45 years I've lived in this part of the world, I've been rained on during the dry season only a handful of times. And it's cold, too!

The joke going around centers on the fact that so many people washed their cars this weekend, to get rid of the ash from the fires and the unusually heavy pollen fall from all the trees in bloom. Hundreds, thousands of newly clean cars naturally caused it to rain, right? Causality hilarity.

It would make more sense, I said, to think of the normal yearly California eddy (which brings in moisture called June gloom) plus the ash plume from the Springs fire causing moisture to condense around particles into raindrops. Stop it, they said, you're no fun. Too logical. We prefer to think of the magic caused by all those shiny clean cars.

Okaaaaay.

In other news, the meeting went well yesterday. I spoke privately to the movers and shakers, the contentious ones, about process being important to the preservation and rational exploration of content, and they listened to me! Will wonders never cease. It's miraculous enough that I'm re-considering my opinion on religion.

Or not.

Chilly, damp, delightful morning. The feeder "socks" for the finches are soaked, so I'll wait for drier weather to refill them. The hummingbirds are flying barrel rolls, happy? trying to dry off? and their feeder is still 2/3s full.

Housemate B is stomping around, nerves wound tight as a drum, but civil enough. Certain things make her hyper; yesterday's budget meeting being one of them. She'll go to work soon and I'll have all this lovely weather and quiet house to myself, and no appointments planned until tomorrow morning.

As soon as it stops raining, I'll go for a walk. Then do some pickup and organizing in the computer room (how DOES it get so messy?) and then turn my attention to whichever of the many projects I have in progress appeals to me today.

I'm so grateful to be retired, and not out on the wet, slick streets on a Monday morning! The traffic will be bad today, guaranteed.